Regrettably I do not own any of the characters from the thir13en ghosts

Here is my first chapter on Horace "the Breaker" Mahoney…… Is that Irish?

p.s. I know nothing about cars. Feel free to correct me.

The man worked quietly in his junkyard. His name was Horace, he was seven foot five, and he was almost thirty years old.

He was also a killer.

He didn't mean to kill people, especially not the women. If there was one thing his daddy had told him, it was never to hit a woman. That had been about the only good thing his daddy had ever told him. He had not been a good man, but he had been all poor Horace had had. And then he had died, leaving poor Horace all alone, and for the first time in years, he was a free man. At the moment, though, he wasn't killing anybody. He was working on his car.

It was an old 87 Firebird, and it was, Horace knew, a piece of junk. He was fixing it anyway. It was all dusty and the paint was scratched and peeling. The seats were spilling their stuffing all over the place, and all four tires were off; the car was up on four stacks of cinderblocks, piled three high to accommodate for his enormous height.

That was another thing his daddy had always told him. He was a freak, but he may as well make himself a useful freak.

Here you go, daddy. Making myself useful, just like you always told me to. Bastard. He thought. Really, Horace had the mental capacity of a very bright eighteen year old. He was not retarded, exactly, but he was not normal, either. He knew about women. He knew about babies. He even had graduated school, though at the freshman year in high school. He spent most of his time tinkering in the junkyard where he had been dumped by his uncaring mother.

From the road, he heard the screech of brakes and the squeal of ties on tar. Horace liked these sounds. It meant his road spikes still worked.

Grimacing slightly from the muggy, humid July night air, Horace Mahoney got to his feet and started to head out to "see what the trouble was" and see if anyone was hurt.

If no one was, well, he would have to do something about that.